


Every Day Is So Wonderful

by carnivalinsidemyhead



Series: We Are Beautiful [2]
Category: Take That
Genre: Addiction, Character sketches, Depression, Eating Disorder, Insecurity, self doubt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2020-12-03
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:21:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27859762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carnivalinsidemyhead/pseuds/carnivalinsidemyhead
Summary: Sketches in this part of the series take place in the 90s and deal with feelings of anxiety and uncertainty and discontent while achieving fame and fortune.
Series: We Are Beautiful [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2034649
Kudos: 9





	1. Our Lives Were Completely Taken Over

**Author's Note:**

> As a precautionary note, Jason’s section deals with disordered eating habits and OCD tendencies.

It was too much, he thought. Just too much.

The shows. The rehearsals. The tv appearances. The radio appearances. The interviews.   
Worrying that they’ll make him talk. Worrying that he’ll just say something daft if he does.

The traveling. The constant traveling. 

Constantly being homesick.

The dieting. The constant dieting.

The hours long workouts. The constant hours long workouts.

Because you don’t get to be The Body by slacking off and stuffing your gob.

Because he was only here because he’s The Body.

He’s glad now they all decided to call it a day. Sure they could maybe have gotten a couple more hits if they kept going but this is for the best.

Really it is.

Doesn’t explain why he’s stood here looking at the Thames and wondering how long it would take him to sink though.

He stands and stares at the water for a few more moments, then turns around and walks away.

“Probably just end up stuck in the mud looking like a tit.”


	2. What The Fuck’s Wrong With Robbie

His skin is clammy and pasty and there are bruises on his arms he can’t explain.

His eyes are bloodshot and his hand shakes too hard to light the cigarette in his hand.

He starts to curse then catches a glimpse of his reflection and starts to giggle, a high pitched hysterical sound.

I look like a fucking junkie, he thinks. Nige’ll fucking shit himself.

He climbs unsteadily onto the bed and stands in the middle of it and sings a couple lines of Could It Be Magic in a mocking tone and thrusts his hips obscenely.

He’s high but he’s not sure on what. Some pills. He hardly cares.

He starts giggling hysterically at himself again.

Because he’s a joke innit he? He’s just a fucking joke.

He’s never going to be anything but a fucking joke.

He’s high but he’s not high enough.


	3. Not Quite A Greek God

Gary looks at the mesh top and tiny shorts he’s been handed with alarm.

The top isn’t *too* bad- more see through than he’d like but at least it’s got long sleeves and is loose. You can’t see *too* much of his stomach in it.

But the shorts- if you can call them that, more like going out on stage in your undies- there was no hiding anything in those.

He glances over at Jason and Howard- both so tan and lean and muscular. They of course look amazing in the daft things.

And he looks down at himself and sees blindingly white, *fat* thighs chafing against each other and he blinks back the tear starting to form in his eye and clears his throat.

“Erm, d’you think maybe I could wear some black trousers instead?”

He can hear Robbie grumbling behind him about how come he gets special treatment and he sighs to himself. He’s under enough pressure without Robbie being a jealous brat.

He’s going to make it worse for himself, he knows, but he can’t bring himself to admit any vulnerability. 

“Just thought it would look better having something a bit different on the lead singer,” he says in his most arrogant tone, ignoring Robbie’s jeers of “fat twat.”


	4. You Open Up Your Curtains And There’s Fifty Girls

“I COME TO YOUR DOOR…”

Mark rolls over in bed and groans as he squints at the clock.

Six in the bloody morning and there’s a whole bleedin’ army of girls out there already singing Babe at the top of their fucking lungs.

He puts his pillow over his head to block out the noise and tries to go back to sleep but it’s no use.

He stumbles into the bathroom and smoothes his hair and looks himself over critically. He’d put on pajamas the night before, unusually for him, and with them buttoned up neatly and his hair in tidy curtains he looks about twelve.

He makes a face. That will never do.

He unbuttons his top so his chest is on display and restores his hair to its tousled bed head look and gives a practiced debauched smile at himself.

It’s like taking candy from a baby.

Don’t be awful, his Catholic guilt tells him, but he shakes it off, telling himself he’ll go to Confession later.

He opens his front door and scans the crowd of girls up and down until he narrows in on a couple of particularly fit ones and flashes his best, most charmingly naughty smile at them.

“Fancy joining me for a coffee then?”

He might as well take advantage of his looks while he’s still got them if they’re all he’s got going for him, right?


	5. Oh So Slightly OCD

Jason counts out his vitamin supplements carefully and then takes each one with exactly three large gulps of water.

Then he takes the (recycled naturally) reusable plastic container he carries with him for snacks on the tour bus and measures out a precise ratio of exactly one half sunflower seeds and one half pumpkin seeds and seals the container shut and puts it in his rucksack.

If he doesn’t eat anything but those seeds for the rest of the day- he’s just had his daily bowl of muesli, exactly one measured cup, with water, and a teaspoon of wheat germ sprinkled on top- he can enjoy a curry with the lads tonight. Maybe he’ll even have a glass of wine too.

He hasn’t got an eating disorder or anything like that- that sort of thing’s something that happens to young girls.

He just likes to be healthy.

He likes the sense of control it gives him.

He hasn’t got many things he can control. He doesn’t even control whether or not his own microphone is on during shows for Christ’s sake.

And god knows he can’t control Robbie. Though he wishes one of them would.

But he can control this at least. And it gives him at least a small semblance of calm.

But it’s not an eating disorder.


End file.
